


Teatime

by OceanTheSoulRebel



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Background Relationships, F/F, Gen, friendship fic, tea time, venting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 07:56:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15945065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OceanTheSoulRebel/pseuds/OceanTheSoulRebel
Summary: After two years of letters back and forth, Josephine and Leliana meet for tea before the Exalted Council officially convenes.





	Teatime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [orlesianbard](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=orlesianbard).



> For the lovely @orlesianbard on Tumblr!

There was something to be said about Orlais and that was that it was, at the very least, civilized.

Josephine smiled as she approached the two armed women that guarded the ornate door. “Good day, Sers,” she said with a polite nod. “Divine Victoria should be expecting me.”

Both women offered a bow before pulling open the door, showing her into the first room of an understatedly lavish suite. The gentle strains of a lute floated from somewhere unseen, playing out the last measures of a familiar courtly song.

“Ah, my friend,” Leliana called from further into the suite. “Do come in.”

Josephine followed the invitation and found herself in a beautiful sun room, the focal point of the royal suite that had been donated for the Divine’s use during the Exalted Council convening.  Delicately carved furniture dotted the walls, lavish yet restrained in the latest fashion. A thick, plush rug carpeted the floor in vibrant hues and led to a balcony that allowed for a brilliant view of the city. The early afternoon light filtered through sections of stained glass inset above the wall of windows.

“I am glad to see you,” Leliana said from behind her.

“Thank you, Your Holiness.” Josie turned and effortlessly stepped into a deep curtsy, only to be met with a light chuckle.

“Come now, Josie, we’re friends.” Leliana smiled as Josephine rose and stepped forward to trade kisses to each other’s cheeks. “It’s been too long, hasn’t it?”

“Nearly two years,” Josephine answered warmly. “It is so good to see you, Leliana.”

Leliana led her to a table on the open balcony, laden with a fine tea set and treats. Josephine couldn’t help the happy sigh that escaped her; try as she might, Ferelden and the Frostbacks simply did not cultivate the same appreciation for the ritual that was a proper afternoon tea.

“Ah, _petit-fours_ , my familiar weakness—you remembered!” she said, eyeing the tower of bite-sized cakes and sandwiches. Josephine reached for the steaming kettle. “Please, allow me—”

“Of course not,” Leliana interrupted with a playful wave. “You are my guest, are you not?” She poured with the well-practice hand of a bard, long versed in the courtly art. With a small flourish she presented a carafe of thick, sweet cream and a small bowl of sugar, setting both between them.

Josephine watched her from under hooded eyes, sweetening her tea almost absentmindedly. Leliana’s auburn hair had grown out from the severe bob she had worn during her years since giving up the ways of the bard, but her braid remained, almost a personal trademark for how long it had graced her hair.

Her eyes, too, had changed. Gone was the sharp, suspicious gaze of the Left Hand of the Divine, watching for threats in every shadow. In its place was a careful, measured assessment, still sharp but less harsh than before, especially different from her time as the Inquisition’s seneschal and spymaster.

Leliana raised her brow curiously at Josephine’s assessment.

“You look happy,” Josephine said, choosing a cream and jam filled finger sandwich from the treat tower. “It’s nice to see. The Sunburst Throne seems to suit you in many ways.”

Leliana nodded. “It’s nice to be,” she confided. Her easy smile slipped into the barest hint of a frown. “It’s been… a trying experience, and not in a small part due to the standing of the Inquisition.”

Josephine fought the urge to sigh as she finished her sandwich. “Beyond Empress Celene’s _polite_ invitations to join her forces and the Fereldan nobility calling for our disbandment entirely, the Inquisition finds itself between various rocks and hard places. With this Exalted Council, I… am concerned.”

“That is a reasonable reaction; I would be surprised if you weren’t.” Leliana cleared her throat lightly. “I have another option to offer.”

“You do?”

Leliana chose and picked apart a petit-four with focused care. “The Chantry has a vested interest in the future of the Inquisition, and I have conferred with some trusted individuals on a potential remedy. Tell me, Josephine, what do you remember of the Order of the Knights Divine?”

“The honor guard of the Divine, yes?” Josephine pursed her lips as she thought. “Are you proposing to bring the Inquisitor on as Chantry staff?”

“To bring the Inquisition on, actually—in a reduced capacity, as a smaller force, but it would potentially preserve the organization and allow it to continue its work.”

“Orlais _would_ only utilize our martial forces…” Josephine trailed off, her mind racing through the ramifications such a move would have. “It is certainly better than disbanding,” she said, “but I cannot speak for the Inquisitor so directly. Her Worship would need to discuss the option with her advisors, but I will bring your offer to her.”

“Please do—I have missed her, but she is a busy woman.”

Josephine snorted; her hand belatedly rose with embarrassment to cover her face for a moment before she gave up with a dry chuckle. “You don’t know the half of it,” she said quietly. Josephine fought the twinge of annoyance that rose within her, shaking her head as if to clear it from her mind. “Tell me about you, my friend,” she said to change the subject. “News of Warden Cousland’s return and subsequent post within the Chantry has flooded every court and noble parlour for months!”

Leliana’s smile grew warm and wistful. “It is… Not everyone has been as thrilled as I am, unfortunately, but she has weathered it with grace. Her tenure as my Right Hand hasn’t been easy, but no harder than Cassandra’s experiences so far. I think we both have prayed to the Maker for fewer dragons in our future than Cassandra encountered,” she said wryly.

“And you’re happy? Both of you?”

“It’s not exactly how either of us pictured being together again, but even the best laid plans go awry.” Leliana brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face. “You have no doubt heard the rumors.”

“Of the Divine and her Right Hand engaged in prayers of a more physical sort than religious? Such talk has made its way to Skyhold, unfortunately. Is there any merit to it?”

Leliana snorted. “Of course there is.”

“I thought as—there is?” Josephine asked incredulously.

“She is my love,” Leliana replied, “and suddenly the subject of more scrutiny than she deserves. My advisors believe—” She cut off with a huff. “One would think the Chantry, claimed to be the bastion of decency and love, would be more amenable to change that offers the Maker’s light to more people of Thedas.”

“People are afraid of change.”

“Yes, but it would be so much easier if I could simply… _make_ them accept these new rulings.”

Josephine’s eyebrow rose but she said nothing, instead taking a deliberate sip of tea.

“I have opened the priesthood to all races and genders. If someone reaches for the light, if their voice sings the chant, how can we deny them a place within our walls? Unfortunately, not every Mother agrees with me.”

Josephine tutted. “Surely that is not what has Lady Cousland under such scrutiny.”

“No, not that. My coming decree to allow Chantry personnel to marry is the reason.”

Leliana was already warm, her smile soft and genuine, but her grin after her proclamation was as bright and blinding as the sun. Josephine couldn’t help her smile in return.

“Truly?”

“The Chantry’s greatest flaw is that it is restrictive, too set into its own dogma to understand the needs of its people,” Leliana said. “The war against Corypheus showed us that so many found doubt instead of security in the Chantry, as it sought to console and swaddle itself instead of its parishioners. The priesthood has become removed from the congregation, and I will see it made extraordinary but accessible to all. I will see the Chantry reformed.”

Josephine nodded. “This is… incredible, Leliana. How have the clerics taken the news?”

She scoffed. “With reluctance, but they will see. Andraste herself was full of love—for her people, for the world, for the Maker. How can I ask any of us to be anything else? Do we not strive to be more like our Blessed Lady?” Leliana fell silent for a moment, taking the opportunity to eat another piece of cake. “Love is the Maker’s greatest gift,” she said fondly. “Through it we each may be redeemed and blessed by the Maker’s grace.”

Josephine smiled and refilled their empty teacups. “I hope the transition goes smoothly, my friend.”

The conversation lulled as they enjoyed their drinks, taking comfort in the companionable silence that grew. Somewhere in the gardens below a string ensemble began to play and soon the air swelled with the graceful refrains.

Leliana set her cup aside. “How are you, my dear Josie? How is Florence?”

“We are deliriously happy, of course,” she said. “It’s just… I had hoped—I think we all had hoped—that things would settle down after we defeated Corypheus, but…” Josephine sighed. “She is a busy woman, and has much on her mind. I do what I can to help relieve her of her burdens, but I cannot do everything. I cannot take the Anchor when it aches.”

“And how are _you_ doing with all this?”

“I…” Josephine paused and turned her attention to her tea cup. “Sometimes I cannot believe we are here, to be honest,” she said with a small smile. “After so long, after so much, it is almost like a dream, bitter parts and all. I can’t help but wonder when I will wake up.”

Leliana nodded. “I felt much the same way after the Blight. A whirlwind romance when all is on the line is one thing—it’s passionate, dangerous, and all the sweeter for it, but when the danger passes? When the setting changes, can the story stand on its own? It’s a question we’ve had to face time and again.”

Josie sipped at her tea, fighting to keep Florence’s sleep-deprived eyes from her mind. Her love had been finding more and more restless nights and filling them with firelight and reports in Skyhold’s war room. Even Cullen slept more these days, and half the keep still teased him about his nocturnal habits.

She set her cup down on the table with a delicate clink of porcelain. “How…” she started, then shook her head. “Forgive me for prying, my dear friend, but may I ask—how often you two see each other now?”

“Not nearly as often as I would like.” Leliana gave a tired smile. “Since I declared to my clerics my intents, we are both under more eyes than comfortable, and her position as my Right Hand takes her from me often. We spend less time together than either of us would prefer.”

“I worry that it is coming to that point with Florence,” Josie confided quietly. “I know I must share her with the world, that she has responsibilities that keep her away, but…” She sighed wistfully. “Between the Anchor and her own drive to see things through, she is a very busy woman who rarely sits down. I just wish she could take a moment to breathe.”

Leliana nodded sympathetically, and Josephine had to look away from her kind gaze.

“I want—I want to take her to Antiva, Leli,” she said, “to have her meet my parents, my brother. She had met Yvette, but perhaps not on anyone’s best night.” Josephine paused for a moment. “But… to walk the white-sand beaches, to waltz in the plazas during the moonlit concerts of summer, to tour the vineyards and get sick from sampling the finest grape. To have _time_ together. Is that too much to ask?”

She didn’t realize how hard she had clenched her fist until Leliana leaned across the table to cover her hand with her own.

“You still have time, Josie, I’m sure of it.”

“We had been searching for Solas for so long.” The words came out ragged, breathier than she expected. “It’s like he disappeared into thin air somehow, and took our hope to manage the Anchor with him. It’s…” Josephine shook her head forcefully. “It’s something I wish I could take on for her. Florence does so much for Thedas.”

Leliana stood and crossed the short distance around the table. “Please, come here.” She enveloped Josephine in a tight hug. “Take her north the minute a decision is reached and the council leaves, and don’t come back for months. Consider that a Divine edict, if you need. You deserve the time off.”

Josephine felt tears prickling at her eyes at the way Leliana squeezed her. “I will,” she murmured with a shaky nod. “I—I will.” She rested her brow against Leliana’s own, unable to staunch the tears that flowed down her cheeks. “Antiva sounds so much better than Orlais right now, if I must be honest,” she said.  

A warm hand smoothed soothingly down her back. “Rightfully so,” Leliana said. “Antiva has white-sand beaches. Orlais has… Celene.”

_“Leliana!”_

Their eyes met, solemn and serious for only a moment before they both dissolved into fits of laughter.

“I have missed you,” Leliana gasped out, struggling to catch her breath. “Two years is too long, Josie.”

Josephine tightened the embrace and held her close, glad to feel the answering squeeze around her ribs. “Ah, how time flies. I fear I’ve taken the whole afternoon to cry on your shoulder. Let us take tea again before this is over, and perhaps not talk about my relationship troubles next time?” She gave a watery smile as they separated.

Leliana’s smile faded into a concerned frown. She nodded and rested her hand on Josephine’s shoulder. “You are welcome any time, Josie. I mean it.”

She hesitated for a moment before drawing Leliana into another tight hug. “Soon. For now, I must ready for the official reception. The Inquisition must look their best.”

A throaty laugh filled the room. “I do not envy any of you; I would not get back into that monstrous raiment if you paid me.” Leliana’s eyes shone. “For once, I will prefer the vestment of my position!”

Josephine wiped the last of her tears away with her hand. “And you will outshine us all,” she said. “Is it blasphemous to ask for you to pray that my uniform hasn’t been starched to within an inch of its life?”

Leliana closed her eyes and brushed her fingers over Josephine’s temple. “Maker be with you, Ambassador,” she intoned with a smile.

“And with you,” Josephine replied. “Thank you, again. You always have been a most wonderful friend.”

With that she turned to the door, already considering the guest list for tonight’s events as she left.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on tumblr at [ocean-in-my-rebel-soul!](https://ocean-in-my-rebel-soul.tumblr.com)  
> 


End file.
